For Love or for Family
by harryandthegang
Summary: Albus Dumbledore has just turned seventeen and is about to see the world. When tragedy strikes and an entrancing stranger turns up in Godric's Hollow Albus finds himself curiously content to stay at home.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I haven't written anything for fanfiction for a loooong time. But I've set myself a certain challenge and I feel like the time is right! I've missed you guys! I just spent the whole of last week reading fanfiction stories and feeling 14 again. (That being said, I also found my old fanfiction account and was highly embarrassed - apparently I thought "placatory" was the same as "platonic". It is not.) I sincerely hope my writing has improved since then, but I leave you to be the judge!**

 **I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter and I don't make any money off this (do we still say that?)**

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"Al!"

Al kept walking. He was going to talk to someone important, he didn't need this. The Minister of Magic himself would be at this meeting!

"AL!"

His mother's voice was shrill in the crisp morning air. The entire neighborhood could hear her, it was all very embarrassing and Albus wanted it to be over. He ducked into Bathilda's backyard and knocked on the glass of her garden door.

The glass was ripply, but he could see a dark shape approaching through the panes.

When the door opened, little Bathilda Bagshot stood there, appraising him with a keen eye. She smiled.

"Are you supposed to be somewhere else, Albus?"

Albus smiled sheepishly. He knew Bathilda would not turn him in.

"Well, come in then."

Albus tried to rearrange his face so his expression would not look too triumphant. Bathilda's sitting room was spotlessly clean, as always, except for the many towers of books adorning every surface. Her office, he knew, was neither so clean, nor so relatively tidy, but she tried to keep her sitting room ready for stranger's eyes, except for the books. Albus wondered if she was blind to them by now. An historian must always be reading, or at least, that's what Bathilda claimed.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Albus smiled. "Actually, I was wondering if I could use your fireplace? I'm off to a meeting at the Ministry of Magic."

"And why would your mother try to stop you from doing that?" she asked, as she strode to the bookcase in the corner, also stuffed with books, many large and ponderous. She pulled out a small, silver snuff box and offered it to Albus. When he opened it, he saw the glittering green Floo Powder and took a pinch, handing her back the box.

"It's not so much she wants to stop me from going to the meeting," he admitted, "As she needs help with – my sister."

"Well, Albus, I know you can't miss a meeting with the Minister. Would you like me to pop in on her?"

Albus felt his heart fill with relief. "That would be quite a kindness, Ms. Bagshot. I should hate to impose."

"Not at all, darling boy, not at all. Go on, into the fire now, you mustn't keep the Minister waiting!"

Albus dropped the pinch of Floo Powder on to the lone log in the fireplace. Emerald green flames shot up six feet high in an insant, the warm breath of the flames lighting his face.

"You know, I heard from my nephew again. He's really quite curious about you."

Albus looked at Bathilda, one foot raised and ready to go into the fire. She was constantly doing this. You thought the conversation was over and then she'd start up again as though goodbyes had not been exchanged.

"He sounds like quite a chap himself," said Albus, not really caring about some boy far away. For goodness' sake, the meeting would start without him at this rate and he had something very exciting to share, something he had been working on all during the Christmas break. Nicolas Flamel would be there as well, and he desperately wanted a word with him before the meeting started.

"Yes, well, he might be coming up during the summer. Quite a boy, quite a boy." Finally sensing some of Albus's irritation, Bathilda said, "Well, off you go then. I'll introduce you if he does come up. Good luck, Albus."

"Thank you so much, Bathilda." And he stepped into the fire and shouted, "Ministry of Magic!"

He spun around, careful to keep his elbows tucked in and saw many flashes of other wizarding fireplaces. He closed his eyes, going over his notes in his mind's eye.

When he finally stumbled into the Ministry of Magic Atrium, he chanced a glance at his watch. A quarter to. Well, he might not get as long a word with Nicolas Flamel as he had hoped, but there was nothing for it at this point. He handed his wand over to the security wizard and was given a badge to wear on his lapel, which he simply slipped into his cloak pocket. Everyone who was anyone knew who he was at the Ministry, there was no reason to make a display.

He walked over to the lifts and cried out with relief when he saw Nicolas Flamel in the same lift.

"Mr. Flamel!" he yelled, stepping in and closing the golden grills. He pulled the lever himself so they began to ascend to one of the meeting floors. "I'm so pleased to see you, I was dearly hoping you would look at my notes before the meeting, perhaps confirm a few figures?"

Nicolas Flamel's face looked weary, and well it might. The man was nearly 600 years old, after all. Albus could barely dream of such advanced age.

Still, he had a bright smile for Albus. "Check _your_ facts and figures boy? Perhaps you ought to check mine before I open my mouth and embarrass myself."

Albus couldn't help the deepening of his grin. He tried very hard to remember he was only sixteen and had a lot to learn from those around him. He wasn't stupid enough to believe himself the smartest man in the world. However, he was sharp enough to recognize himself as the smartest man in the room. Any room.

Still, he wanted Nicolas to look at his work. One misspelling and the room would laugh him out of the Ministry.

When they reached the meeting room, everyone hailed the pair. Branson Efferness, the Head of Magical Theory sat at the head of the table, while Garret Umsted was in the middle of a deep conversation with what looked to be a teapot. Albus was never sure if the Head of Experimental Charms was having an off-day (like the time he came in to a meeting crying at every spoken word, having experimented too much with extra-sensitive hearing charms) or had actually charmed something near him, instead of himself. As no one was worried about this tea pot conversation, Albus decided the teapot itself was charmed, and an enthusiastic conversationalist.

He and Nicolas Flamel sat at the foot of the table, near the drawing board Albus would be using shortly. He pulled his notes out of an inside cloak pocket and flipped to the pages he was most nervous about.

Nicolas stretched out a liver-spotted hand and picked up the papers, scanning the equations. He promptly dropped the pages.

"Merlin!" he cried, his withered cheeks reddening with excitement and a little embarrassment at his reaction. He began shuffling the papers together, but his old hands were not nimble and they kept scattering the parchment about.

"Allow me, Nicolas. No harm done," said Albus. Once his notes were back in order he resisted the urge to lean back in his chair and smile smugly. Instead, he looked at the table, hoping he looked modest and knowing he was failing fantastically

"So," he finally said when he'd regained his composure. "What do you think?"

Nicolas shook his head, laughing silently.

More people trickled in and finally the meeting began. The Minister of Magic looked down the table after the minutes from the last meeting had been read out. Albus was up first. The Minister nodded to Albus, an approving look on his face.

Albus stood up and walked over to the drawing board. He tapped his notes and they suddenly appeared on the board. There were a few gasps around the table as the theorists and magical zoologists and other -ists understood some of what they saw.

"Gentlemen," said Albus, suppressing a grin. "I have discovered, unless I am wrong, and I do invite you to show me how I am, _twelve_ uses of dragon's blood."

Applause broke out around the table.

The rest of the holiday passed in a blur of handshakes and letters from all across the wizarding community congratulating Albus on his startling find. His mother was, of course, very proud, which tempered some of her crossness that he had ignored her the day of the meeting. His brother, Aberforth, spent an increasing amount of time in the goat pen until his mother actually had to go magic him up to bed, for he'd fallen asleep on the pellet-strewn floor. He positively stank up the upper floor as he drifted past Albus's bedroom door.

He was about to return to Hogwarts, but he had to do one thing more. He had to go and see Ariana.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his sister. He loved her, of course. Of course he did. And he didn't blame her for their father being in Azkaban, no one did. Still, it was hard to see her – barely able to lift herself off the couch or screaming obscenities and carving up her skin with anything sharp – and not feel a small amount of disgust at her pathetic state.

He knocked on the door to the basement to announce his arrival but it was only perfunctory. She could not go up the stairs unless she was accompanied by their mother, a charm Albus had come up with his first year back from Hogwarts. She could no more open the door to the rest of the house than she could leave the house, the poor thing.

"Ariana," he said, as he made his way down the stairs.

She was in a quiet type mood today. Her candyfloss blonde hair stood in its usual matted cloud around her head, somehow looking rather angelic. Her big blue eyes were sad and knowing. Albus sat beside her and she took his hand.

"Mother tells me you'll win all sorts of awards this year." She looked up at him. "Will you write to me?"

As he looked into her sweet face, he knew he wouldn't. And what was worse, he could see that she knew. "I'll try. School is awfully busy, you know."

She nodded. "Ab finds time to write, but his marks are nothing to yours. I suppose to get marks like yours you must study an awful lot."

"I'll send you the books we're reading in school when I've done with them," he promised.

Her face lit up. She threw her arms around his neck. Albus tensed and hated himself, but she felt it and withdrew. "That would be wonderful, Albus, thank you."

He drew her back into a hug and this time she lingered.

"I'll see you soon," he said, standing. "There's not much school left. I'll be back for a few days before Elphias go on our grand tour. Oh, I can't wait to show you the things we'll bring back, Ariana." Remembering himself, he cleared his throat. "I shall write this semester. I'll make a point of it."

She smiled sheepishly and he departed.

Aberforth did not sit next to him on the train.

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 **Poor Ariana.**

 **Please review and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is just as welcome as glowing praise!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for reading! If you get a second, please review, it means a lot to know what you think!**

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Albus Dumbledore left school at seventeen with highest honors. He had won many awards during his tenure at Hogwarts and the one thing many knew for certain was that he would win many more.

As soon as the graduation ceremony was over, the job offers came pouring in. Gringotts needed a Charm Breaker, the Ministry, God bless them, needed more people than Albus cared to count. Businesses, restaurants, scientific communities looking for prestigious members. Albus wrote them all back saying he would consider employment after his Grand Tour, which he and Elphias Doge, a dear friend through all seven years of Hogwarts, were busily planning.

They had taken rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and were sitting in a private parlor enjoying firewhiskey and their many successes.

An owl flew in and landed on one of their travel itineraries.

"Who are you for?" Elphias asked, removing a loosely rolled scroll. The outside simply said "Aberforth – Albus". Elphias handed over the parchment.

Albus knew what it would say. Father had died in Azkaban. It continued to shock Albus that his father could survive Azkaban so long. Picturing a wasted man in a squalid cell, his heart was heavy as he unrolled the parchment. He didn't even consider why Aberforth had written rather than their mother.

 _Albus,_

 _There's been a terrible accident. You must return home at once. Mother is dead._

Albus blinked his eyes rapidly, certain he had misread his brother's untidy scrawl. The word dead remained stubbornly on the page. Albus kept reading, though his head was spinning.

 _The funeral is this Saturday. Bathilda Bagshot has helped make the arrangements. Please return quickly. Our sister is not well._

 _Aberforth_

 _P.S. I am sorry about your Tour._

Albus realized his hand was coverig his mouth and his eyes were watering.

"What is it?" asked Elphias. The concern in his round, plump face was genuine. Everything about Elphias was genuine. With a small sob, Albus passed his friend the parchment.

"Oh. Oh my word. Oh, Albus, how terrible." His friend set the parchment on the table.

"You stay right here. Drink your firewhisky, it will help with the shock." He began shuffling up their travel plans. "I shall make all the arrangements, Albus. By the time I come back we will be ready to go to Godric's Hollow."

Within fifteen minutes, Elphias was back. Albus tried to thank him for taking care of everything and insisted he'd pay him back for the rooms and the drinks, but Elphias kept saying, "We'll talk about that later, come on."

He had grabbed a tin of Floo Powder from Tom the bartender and threw it into the fireplace now. Emerald green flames shot up and Elphias guided Albus into the fireplace.

Albus shouted his address and spun round and round. He stumbled out of the fireplace onto the rug at home. There was a casket sitting on a table, right there in the sitting room. He stumbled, and fell. He rested his head against the wall, not looking at the casket.

"Albus?" It was Aberforth's voice, floating up from the basement.

"Yes," said Albus, but it was just a croaking sound that came out. Elphias fell onto the carpet and held out a hand. Albus took it, and pulled on it to stand up.

"Yes, Aberforth, it's me." This time his voice came out loud and strong. He took a deep breath. He could not fall apart anymore. He was the head of the family now. Just graduated, seventeen years old, and in charge of his half-mad brother and fully-mad sister. He approached the casket just as Aberforth came out of the basement and closed the door.

There was their mother. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face without softening anywhere. She had never even had a chance to grow gray hairs. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were all that belied her difficult adulthood.

Albus could not believe he was staring at her dead body. That he would not watch her rise from the casket, angry that everyone was wasting time and demanding they get all the flowers out before she sneezed herself to death.

"We won't have the wake here," said Aberforth, standing by his side. "Because of...well, you know."

Elphias was standing right behind Albus. He put his hand on Albus's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. Aberforth. Is there _anything_ I can do?" Elphias released Albus's shoulder with one last squeeze.

Aberforth shook his head. "Ms. Bathilda Bagshot has taken care of everything." He turned and looked at Elphias's face. "Thank you."

"Please stay," said Albus. "Would you mind terribly putting off your Tour for a day or two?"

"Of course not, of course not. If you don't mind, I'll make a few calls in your parlor and then perhaps I'll make us all a cup of tea."

Elphias excused himself from the room.

"Pompous twat," said Aberforth. Albus found himself giggling. Then he found himself laughing. Then he was standing by his mother's open casket, holding onto Aberforth's shoulders as he laughed so hard tears streamed down his face.

Aberforth patted his arms gently, finding himself giggling as well.

"You should go see Ariana," he said, when Albus began to taper off. That cut the laughter short immediately.

"What happened?" Albus asked, watching his brother's face for reaction. "What was the terrible accident?"

Aberforth looked at the door to the hall, checking that Elphias was nowhere near.

"Ariana was in one of her rages again. Mum was trying to calm her down but it wasn't working. She came upstairs to get a sleeping draught and when she went back downstairs the furniture was flying around. Mum tried to cast a spell..." Aberforth's voice broke, "But she wasn't quick enough," he whispered. "The wardrobe struck her from the side and she fell." Aberforth cleared his throat. His hands were clasped behind his back. His dark red-brown hair hung in lank curtains around his face as he bowed his head. "She hit her head on that hard stool that's down there, where she sits to knit when Ariana is calm. Broke her neck. Ariana started to scream. She just didn't stop. By the time I got there she was completely hysterical, everything began to float again. I was...I was scared. I had to leave. I had to leave Mum's body down there with Ariana till Ariana passed out."

Now Albus was crying. His tears were nearly silent, but his thin body shook horribly with the sobs.

Albus grabbed his brother and pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around him tightly. Aberforth was nearly as tall as him now, and still painfully thin.

"You did the right thing. You could never have gone down there while she was that dangerous. I'm so, so sorry you went through all that on your own. How terrible for you." He pushed Aberforth away from him but retained his grip on his shoulders.

"You must not blame yourself or feel guilty for not retrieving Mother's body. That was the absolute right thing to do. It wouldn't have helped anything anyway."

Aberforth looked spitting mad now. "It might have helped Ariana," he said and wrenched himself out of Albus's grasp. He ran from the room. Albus heard his footsteps thundering up the stairs just as Elphias returned to the sitting room.

"So sorry, old chap. I guess it's tea for two then, hey?"

Albus nodded. He looked away before his friend could see the corners of his mouth twitch. His best friend really was a bit of a pompous git.

The funeral was small. They had had many friends in Mould-on-the-Would but many less after his father was thrown in Azkaban. The people that were still willing to be friendly with the Dumbledore family after his father had beat several Muggle children to a bloody pulp were not willing to travel all the way to Godric's Hollow for a funeral for someone they had not seen in many years.

Albus tried to appear as though he were listening to the vicar's words. Tried to look like he was perhaps taking comfort in them, if only so Aberforth, so miserable and hunched beside him that he could not even cry, might believe his example of mourning was sensible.

But he was not listening. He took no comfort in the empty phrases, for empty they were. Instead, he stared ahead, above the vicar's head. The lines between the gray bricks warped and trembled as Albus's eyes slid in and out of focus.

Finally, the funeral was over. There was a small banquet on the lawn. Very quiet, very quick. And then everyone was gone. All but one.

Old Bathilda Bagshot approached Albus and Aberforth as they were thanking the vicar.

"Albus, dear," she said as she walked up to him. "My darling boy, please tell me if there's anything you need. Anything at all." Her dark eyes were bloodshot and her face was puffy. "I did promise your mother I'd look after you."

Albus laid a hand on top of hers, which was resting on his coat sleeve.

"Thank you, Ms. Bagshot. You've done so much for us already but I may need to call on you soon."

Bathilda nodded her head. "Of course. Any time." She turned to Aberforth and pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. "You as well, Ab. Come by any time you need fresh air. Study hard."

Aberforth could not even bring himself to move. Bathilda broke from the hug and walked away.

The boys walked back home. As soon as Albus walked in the door he could hear the unmistakable sounds of his sister in one of her rages.

Albus was busy over the next week going over the household accounts. Despite not being able to hold a job, Kendra had done well. She had had a little money from her own family, long deceased now, when she had married Percival Dumbledore. He had had a little money too, but it had all disappeared, of course, after he had been sentenced to Azkaban. Still, they had made solid investments with it when they had it, and as those had been in Kendra's name at the time of Percival's sentencing, the money was still trickling in.

Kendra had had enough to put some by. If Albus's calculations were correct, and he had no reason to doubt that budgeting for a family was one of his many talents, they would have enough to last a year. Albus was certain he could get a job by then. There were certainly enough offers. He would need to examine them much more closely than he had anticipated when he had received them, for of course, he had to find a job that would allow him to stay at home.

And then there was Aberforth. The boy spent half his time cooped up with the goats and the other half running completely wild. The only time he could be counted upon was when Ariana went into a state. Albus was very glad of the help in this arena, however, as Ariana would only rage all the more if Albus himself went downstairs. It hurt that his sister had so little trust in him, but when he thought about it, he could not blame her. She would hardly know him. He had spent so much time shut up in his room writing essays for publications and letters to eminent scholars, he had hardly had time to go tripping down the basement stairs to spend quality time with a mad woman.

School would start soon, and Aberforth, at least, would be off his hands. Perhaps Albus would even have a job by then. He could write. He could still study. He was certain there was something he could do within earshot of Ariana.

One day, the monotony was broken by a knock on the front door. Aberforth ran to it.

"Hello, Ms. Bagshot," Albus heard him say. "Come in."

He heard the door close and set down the letter he had been reading.

" Ms. Bagshot," he said, standing from the armchair. "Please, won't you sit down."

"Oh no, Albus," she said, "I have someone I'd quite like you to meet, if you have the time."

Albus was curious. "Of course." He followed her to the front door. A tall man, nearly Albus's height, stood with his back to the door. Albus noticed the sun was low in the sky. He had not even made sure Aberforth had had something to eat and it looked like tea time was fast approaching.

"Gellert, do come in, it's so rude to stand outside like that."

The man turned around. The sun was behind him so Albus could not immediately see his face, but all the same his heart leapt into his throat. There was something about this man that immediately caught at him, that swept him up in a way he had never felt before. Albus was already feeling foolish by the time the man's features swam into view, and then he blushed. This man was handsome.

He had blonde, curly hair that tumbled to his shoulders, well showcased by the cut of his expensive jacket. His facial features were angular. They had a decidedly Slavic tilt. But it was the eyes that were so arresting. As the youth approached, and he was a youth, possibly younger than Albus, he could see that they were a delicate sea green. So delicate, Albus, for the first time, was aware of his gangly appearance.

"This is my nephew, Gellert Grindelwald."

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 **And that's that! Thanks for reading and please review if you have a moment!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you phonebox for the reviews! Love your username!  
**

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"This is my nephew, Gellert Grindelwald."

Albus opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He blushed, cleared his throat. "Hello," he said. "I am Albus Dumbledore. A pleasure to meet a relation of Ms. Bagshot."

Bathilda beamed. She turned to Gellert and said, rather imperiously, "Will you shake his hand Gellert?"

The young man started, coming out of some sort of reverie. His green eyes focused on Albus with a sharp acuity that made him feel as though his innermost thoughts were on display for all to see. He felt curiously shy. Gellert Grindelwald lifted his hand and Albus put his own out as well.

When their palms touched, Albus felt a warmth spread from his center to his fingertips. He smiled and released Gellert's hand, hoping he had not held on too long, that his palms were not too dry or too moist, that he could hold Gellert's hand possibly in the future quite soon.

"Well, do come in, both of you. We were just about to have tea."

Albus could practically hear the cogs turning in Aberforth's mind. Of course, they had been no where near about to have tea. Albus often forgot the human needs of his family until it was well dark out.

Bathilda smiled, but declined. "I'm sorry, Albus. We're meant to be at the Abbotts' tonight for tea. At the risk of imposing, we are free tomorrow."

Albus felt his heart soar again. Tomorrow! "I'll be sure to order something special," he said, giving Bathilda Bagshot what he hoped was a charming smile.

Ms. Bagshot inclined her head. She turned round and grabbed Gellert's arm and the pair walked away.

Albus closed the front door. He stood there without realizing it for quite some time. Finally, Aberforth spoke and he snapped out of it.

"I'm going to see if Ariana's hungry."

Albus turned around and looked at his brother, who had a very odd look on his face. "Thank you, Aberforth."

"We were just about to have tea, hey?" Aberforth sneered and stalked to the basement door.

Albus sighed, his irritation with his brother rising, but much less agitating than usual. He opened the ice box and began to assemble a dinner of cold cuts and salad. He was no cook like their mother had been. He would have to order a dinner to serve, but it couldn't be cold cuts and salad. He had an intense need to impress Bathilda and her nephew, though he couldn't explain it to himself.

So the boy was handsome! There were plenty of handsome boys. He had seen many at Hogwarts. Had been friends with some of them.

Perhaps Gellert was the type of individual who picked his nose when he thought no one was looking. Would Albus's heart beat as quickly if he were to witness that? Or perhaps he was the type of person who dog-eared library books. That would be upsetting to see as well. Or perhaps Albus shouldn't be trying to guess so hard at the foibles and virtues of a stranger just met.

As it turned out, Ariana was hungry. Aberforth cajoled Albus into eating with the two of them in the basement. He wasn't much company at first, but Ariana was in one of her very rare good moods, with all of her wits about her. Soon, the crackling fire, filling, if not inspired dinner, and the good humor of all three Dumbledores had Albus feeling very much in the present moment. In a lull in the conversation, as they all digested their meals, Albus looked at his brother and sister and felt a warmth in his chest. They could do this. They could survive. They had each other.

The next day Albus ordered duck filets and a salad, taking time to pick out a complementary bottle of wine. He worried for most of the afternoon about Ariana. He even thought briefly about giving her a sleeping draught but felt so guilty for even entertaining the thought that in a moment of inattention, the knife he was using preparing potions ingredients slip and cut his finger. He looked at the blood for a moment before healing it and going about his day.

Finally, tea time arrived. The house looked nice. The floors were clean, the drapes had been dusted and Albus had found the linen closet where Mother had kept the tablecloths. He was excited about replacing the bath towels they had all been using for too long as well.

At six o'clock there was a knock on the door.

"Albus!" said Bathilda, smiling broadly as always. "So good to see you, boy. We've brought dessert."

She handed him a pie wrapped in a thick cloth napkin to keep the heat in. He thanked her and stood aside as she walked in.

Gellert was right behind her. He gave Albus an appraising look and then broke into a rather broad smile himself, making his light green eyes turn up at the corners. Albus wasn't sure why his heart was racing. Perhaps he had inhaled too much of his experimental potion's fumes earlier. He shut the door and ushered them into the dining room before placing the pie in the oven to keep warm.

Aberforth poured the wine.

"So," said Albus, sitting down at the head of the table and feeling quite odd about it, "Gellert, I've been quite curious. What brought you to England?"

Gellert took a sip of wine before answering. Albus saw his eyebrows lift quickly in a look of appreciation and flushed with pleasure.

"I hadn't seen my aunt for quite some time, but I have been curious about this part of your country for years." Gellert Grindelwald had a very slight accent. He spoke English amazingly well. Albus had no idea what his mother tongue might be and felt himself becoming quickly enraptured by the handsome young man. "I particularly want to study your magical history in this neighborhood. Many eminent magicians have lived here."

"Where are you from?" Aberforth interjected. Albus speared a bit of salad on a fork, thankful for once for his brother's ill-breeding. He was burning to know everything about Gellert.

"I am from Russia. I went to Durmstrang, of course. I'm very happy to be here with my aunt, however." He smiled. It was a mysterious smile. It didn't last nearly long enough in Albus's opinion. Bathilda smiled as well.

Feeling quite certain he'd trip over his own tongue but unable to stop himself, Albus said, "I'm sure Bathilda would be more than able to show you everything you'd need to know about Godric's Hollow's magical history but I would be happy to show you around myself." Around myself? Had he actually said that? His words had come out too fast, it was clear that he was feeling strongly, he had embarrassed himself -

"That would be wonderful, thank you," said Gellert. "I admit to being most fascinated by the ancient families that lived here. Possibly the founders. I know it is named after Godric Gryffindor, of course, but I believe there are older families. The Peverells for instance? I don't suppose there are any more of them in this area?"

There was something about the way Gellert was looking at him that made Albus want to squirm. His voice, already soft, had dropped an octave, and his eyes were narrowed in intense interest. Albus returned his own eyes to his salad, lest Gellert see the naked longing on his face.

"I have never heard of a family called Peverell, but you are correct in your assumption that magical families lived here long before Godric Gryffindor. The village was named after him _after_ he founded Hogwarts."

"Quite right," Bathilda confirmed, and launched into the year and the day and the celebrations that had happened after the naming of Godric's Hollow. Albus took the opportunity to watch Gellert, who appeared quite fascinated by what his aunt had to say. He began to think of all the places he would take Gellert, imagining them walking side by side in the sunshine, perhaps down by the river, perhaps he would take him to the old church graveyard which was right next to a lovely copse of trees and a small brook they could rest their feet in if the day were hot.

Albus suddenly realized the table was staring at him.

"I'm so sorry," said Albus, to no one in particular. "I missed that."

"I asked if you had read my latest paper on the Hogwarts founders," said Bathilda, graciously not becoming annoyed with Albus's wandering attentions.

The four of them passed an excellent few hours talking about Great Britain's magical history, especially concerning Hogwarts. Well, the three of them, really, for Aberforth excused himself as soon as his plate was clean.

Albus magicked their plates into the sink and poured them all generous measures of firewhiskey after they ate dessert. The conversation had moved on to the latest theories in Transfiguration and Albus was trying very hard not to boast, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stop Bathilda from mentioning all of his accomplishments in that arena. He was gratified to see Gellert looking more and more impressed and found himself quite glad to be among intellectual equals.

All too soon Aberforth had reappeared. He put a hand on Albus's shoulder and leaned down to murmur, "Ariana isn't feeling well," into Albus's ear. Albus felt his heart sink.

"Well, I'm afraid we shall have to call it a night," he said, rising from his chair. Bathilda stood as well.

"My, my look at the time Gellert! We were to rise early tomorrow for a nature walk! I suppose we shall see how we are feeling."

Gellert stood slowly, keeping eye contact with Albus. "Thank you very much for inviting us over, Mr. Dumbledore. I hope you won't find me too forward if I come over tomorrow afternoon to discuss that tour."

Albus felt himself start to blush. "Not too forward at all, no!"

He walked them to the door. Bathilda was all smiles. He kissed her cheek and extended his hand to Gellert, who shook it. His hand was warm and calloused. Albus was embarrassed at his own, rather soft, hands.

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 **If you have a moment, please review!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Can I just say I love writing this story? I wish JK would come out with "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" but until then I'll have to make do with my own version of events!  
**

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The next day, as Albus read a book about cooking for novices (it really looked quite a bit like making potions and he was an excellent potioneer) there was a ringing at the door. Albus jumped up. Aberforth raced into the front room. Albus looked from his brother to the front door and then strode to the front door.

"Albus, wait!" said Aberforth, walking forward and stretching out his hand as though to hold the door closed.

"That's terribly rude, Aberforth. I know manners mean nothing to you, but they mean a great deal to me."

Aberforth lowered his hand. His chin stuck out in a thoroughly mutinous way and Albus knew he'd be in quite a bit of trouble later. But that was later.

Albus opened the door and there was Gellert. He was looking away from the door, a thoughtful expression on his face but when the door opened and Gellert realized it was Albus a smile curled his lips.

"Mr. Dumbledore," he said and then turned his head and nodded at Aberforth. "Mr. Aberforth. Is now a good time?"

Aberforth, just barely out of Gellert's line of vision unless Gellert turned his way, began shaking his head swiftly from side to side at Albus. Albus barely repressed an eye roll and instead smiled broadly. "Now is excellent. Allow me to grab my jacket. Would you like to wait inside?"

Gellert bowed his head.

Albus, with a significant look at Aberforth, walked into the hallway adjoining the front room where the coat closet stood snugly under the stairs. He reached in and grabbed one of his father's old coats that his mother had never been able to throw away. It was a dashing thing made of fine black tweed and perfect for a rather cold summer day like today. He had to brush a few spiders off, as Aberforth talked swiftly in a loud whisper.

"Please don't leave me alone Albus. I'm afraid to be alone with Ariana. What if she goes into one of her fits and I can't make her better? Please Albus, I want you here, I won't be able to do anything if she gets out of hand, you shouldn't leave me here to be responsible for her, I'm not meant to do magic out of school -"

"Ab." Albus put his hand on his little brother's shoulder. He looked him in the eye, noticing he really didn't have far to look down anymore. "I have complete faith in you." Aberforth looked as though he would continue to argue and Albus felt his mouth fall into the same stern line their mother's always had. "I've already told Gellert I'd take him on a tour of Godric's Hollow. It would be terrifically rude of me not to do so now. You know how much Ms. Bagshot has helped our family recently, I must be pleasant to her nephew as well."

Aberforth looked down at his feet and Albus felt his heart surge. He had won! He swung the jacket on and closed the cupboard door. "If there are any emergencies Floo to Ms. Bagshot's. She'll help you sort it and she'll come for me."

Aberforth nodded, still not looking at him.

"Mr. Grindelwald," said Albus, walking back into the front room. "Are you ready?"

Gellert looked up from his book, which he must have been carrying in a jacket pocket, for he had not been holding it when Albus had opened the door.

"Yes, Mr. Dumbledore." He nodded at Aberforth again. "Mr. Aberforth."

Albus and Gellert left the house, the weak sunshine making the whole world look gray. The world had that wet humid feeling of approaching rain. They began to walk down the street toward the graveyard.

"I wanted to show you the old church graveyard," said Albus, "As you're so interested in the magical families that lived here. You might see some names you recognize if you've been reading about our village."

Gellert nodded his head. His book had gone back in his jacket and he was holding his hands behind his back.

"What were you reading?" Albus asked, wishing he could think of something more original to say.

"I was reading 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. An excellent storyteller, your Beedle."

Albus felt his brow furrow. The Tales of Beedle the Bard were nursery stories. Gellert didn't have the look of someone who had ever been in a nursery.

"Do you have a favorite?" he asked.

Gellert smiled. Albus couldn't look away. It was a secretive smile. It was a mischievous smile. "Oh yes," he said. He was quiet for so long Albus thought that was it, but then he said, "The tale of the three brothers. Although I'm quite fond of Babbity-Rabbity."

Albus smiled, but did not pursue it. It was quite as strange as a Hogwarts teacher assigning a comic book as required reading, Gellert Grindelwald reading children's tales. He wanted to know about _him_ and tried to think of a suitable question that wasn't too prying. He failed to do so and asked another uninspired question.

"What was your favorite subject at school?"

"The Studies of the Dark Arts," he said, quickly. "There are many fascinating things wizards have done throughout the centuries. Some of them were quite dark, but their power lives with us to this day. Some of the most twisted experiments have helped us understand our own physiology, our own spirituality. There were some in my year who wanted to learn enough to have great power, but had no interest in the theory, in the history of the subject. But I'm sure I don't need to tell you about being frustrated by your contemporaries."

Albus nodded, too inclined to agree. He had been lucky at Hogwarts if one of his friends _understood_ their subjects, let alone found themselves fascinated.

"I was too advanced," Gellert continued, unprompted. "I was asking questions the teachers could not answer and they were frightened of my knowledge. I knew school held no more useful knowledge and left."

"You did not complete your schooling?" Albus asked, shocked. He had felt just as constricted in Hogwarts, but had never for one second contemplated leaving school unfinished.

"No. I didn't see the point. Anything I want to learn I can just learn, why sit in a classroom degrading your mind to do it?"

Albus thought about that. They were reaching the graveyard. He had not thought of an answer by the time they reached the little kissing gate.

"This is it," he said, unnecessarily. They walked into the graveyard. The clouds were getting thicker and the weak sunshine was gone, so the graveyard looked quite gloomy.

Albus showed Gellert the more notable families, and the ones Bathilda Bagshot herself had written about and taken a special interest in. Gellert was impressed, but stopped halfway along the row to Godric Gryffindor's grave. He knelt swiftly to the ground and Albus thought he had hurt himself until he saw he was reading the name on the headstone.

He came back and bent down to peer at the name.

Ignotus Peverell. There was an etching beneath the name. A line inside a circle inside a triangle. It meant nothing to Albus but for the first time Albus saw real excitement in Gellert's eyes. He realized Gellert had only been pretending to be interested in what Albus was showing him, for the greedy look of discovery on Gellert's face now was raw and unmistakable. Remembering Gellert asking about the Peverell family and whether any Peverells were now in the area Albus realized Gellert had no interest in magical _families_. He was interested in only one.

Gellert ran his fingers over the odd symbol.

"Do you know what that means?" Albus asked, nodding toward the triangle thing.

Gellert stood so they were eye to eye. "Yes. It's the sign of the Deathly Hallows."

Albus laughed. "The what?"

Gellert was not laughing. "The Deathly Hallows. From the story of the three brothers. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, the Cloak of Invisibility." He drew the shape of a line, a circle and a triangle with his finger as he listed the objects. Albus tried to remember the story of the three brothers, how they had met death by a river and he had granted them three objects. Until Gellert had listed them now he would not have been able to list them himself. He had not read any of the Tales since leaving the nursery himself.

"I see. So Ignotus Peverell must have been quite a fan of Beedle the Bard."

Now Gellert did laugh. "I cannot vouch for that. No, the sign is of something that came before Beedle. I believe Beedle wrote a fairy tale around an actual historical event." Seeing the look of disbelief on Albus's face he continued. "How long has it been since you've read the story?"

Albus thought. "I don't believe I ever read it myself. It's something our nurse read to us before bed."

Gellert shook his head, still smiling. His light green eyes were turned up at the corners again. He reached into his pocket and drew out the slim volume of fables. "It's written in ancient runes, but I'm sure that's no problem for you."

Albus glowed at the compliment. It was not a problem and Albus would have been quite embarrassed if it had been. He still felt confused, but he confessed to himself he was happy to play along.

"You think I'm being childish, don't you?" said Gellert, the smile leaving his face.

"You're very perceptive," said Albus. "But I wouldn't use the word childish. I believe you are fascinated by a mysterious subject once again. I shall read the Tale of the Three Brothers. I would be interested in hearing more." He would be interested in spending more time with Gellert.

"I should like to hear what you have to say on the subject. I could lend you my notes about the Elder Wand as well. It's the only object I've had any luck tracking down. I think I'm quite close."

Albus was surprised. "Yes, I'd like to read those as well." He looked at the cover of the book. It was a worn, leather cover. It looked rather old. "So, the wand, the stone, the cloak. And what happens if you find them all?" He could not suppress a grin as he asked.

Gellert grinned back. "You become invincible."

Albus walked Gellert back home while Gellert explained his real reason for coming to Godric's Hollow.

"My aunt would think the same as you, that I'm chasing a childish fantasy. It's not as though I believe Death really met them at the road, though if I could find a way to meet Death, I certainly would. No, I believe Ignotus Peverell was one of the three brothers, that he helped create three very powerfully magic objects. When one unites all three one is supposed to be Master of Death, but I believe that is an overreaching statement. Still, the Elder Wand is supposed to be unbeatable. And think of the power if one really did have the Resurrection Stone. Think of all the political leaders, all the philosophers one could speak to with such an object!" He smiled at Albus and Albus could feel himself getting caught up. It was exciting to ponder. He wondered what kind of notes Gellert would show him about the Elder Wand.

"And the Cloak," said Albus. "What's so amazing about that?" He himself could perform a decent Disillusionment charm that was almost as good as being invisible.

"The Cloak _is_ invincible. A regular invisibility cloak would have the charm wear off, or get holes in. The Cloak in the story is Death's own cloak. It is impervious to spells. I suppose if one wanted to track down the other two objects having the cloak would be a significant help."

"You mean if you wanted to break into someone's home, don't you?" asked Albus, chuckling.

Gellert laughed along with him. "Yes, I suppose I do mean that."

They were walking very close. Every once in a while Albus's arm would swing forward in just such a way and brush against Gellert's jacket. It gave him a thrill every time and he noticed that Gellert did not put any distance between them.

"I'm very glad I came here," said Gellert. He was looking down at his feet and Albus could see a slight flush creeping into his cheeks. "I rarely meet anyone as intelligent as myself. I can tell you don't believe me, but I'm confident I can bring you around. Your mind would be invaluable to me in this search."

Albus felt his own face turn rather pink. "I'm very glad you came here as well," he said.

They were close to Bathilda Bagshot's place and both of them slowed down without realizing it.

"I shall send you my notes as soon as I am inside. Please respond quickly. I'm meant to eat dinner with Aunt Bathilda and some of her friends, but I can answer an owl. Or two." He stopped and looked Albus in the eyes. "I must know your thoughts."

Albus looked back, faintly registering that his heart was pounding. "I'd be glad to share them with you," he said, his voice sounding strangely out of breath.

They continued walking, this time in silence. They were walking even closer now and Albus could feel the warmth of Gellert's arm next to his own. He could smell his cologne, dark and wholly suitable, along with a faint whiff of woodsmoke.

They reached the drive to Bathilda's front door.

"Well, Mr. Dumbledore," said Gellert, smiling gently. "Thank you very much for the walk this afternoon. I confess, I'm rarely so entranced with someone's company."

Albus _knew_ he was blushing now and looked at the toes of his boots until he could recover himself.

"I confess to the same thing, Mr. Grindelwald."

"Gellert, please."

"Thank you. Gellert." He wanted to say his name ten more times.

"I'm sending you that owl now," he said, walking backwards down the drive.

"I'm Apparating to my home," said Albus, grinning. He turned and completed his spin through the air in his own parlor.

There was screaming and shouting and banging. Albus raced downstairs, all thought of owls forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I am so sorry for the wait! I dislocated a couple of ribs and it made sitting and typing absolute agony! I'm much better now and I'm really excited about this chapter. Please let me know what you think!**

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Later, after Ariana had finally gone quiet, Albus had trudged up the stairs to find Gellert's owl (he assumed) going completely berserk at the long waiting period for delivery. Albus eagerly snatched at the bundle of papers and said a hasty thank you to the owl. He sat down on the sofa near the fire to read.

Fifteen minutes later, Albus was pacing the living room, frantically rifling through the pages. He could not believe what he was seeing. He could not believe what he was seeing!

Gellert had quite successfully connected the timelines of the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, and unnamed wands of great power that popped up throughout the world. Albus had seen reference to the Deathstick and the Wand of Destiny, of course, had read historical accounts of the very people Gellert listed who had been rumored to have unbeatable wands. He had dismissed the idea, thinking the men and women must have simply been terrifically talented witches and wizards. But the dates, the locations, even the gaps made sense. Albus read through it all again.

Well that left the cloak and the stone. He had never heard of anything like that except for the Inferius spells, which reanimated human corpses, but did not bring anyone's _consciousness_ back from the dead.

Albus sat down again to read The Tale of the Three Brothers. The runes were easy to translate, as this was a book of children's tales and there were no ambiguous or difficult words or phrases.

When he set the slim volume down he saw the world anew. He saw the world from Gellert's eyes. An unbeatable wand, an infallible cloak of invisibility, and a stone that could wake the dead. Albus imagined his mother, embracing her again, telling her how much he loved her. He imagined her staying, helping him take care of Ariana. The story made it sound like people did not want to come back to the land of the living, but Albus reasoned it was a morality tale and it was the morals of this particular continent to try and give peace to the dead. He looked again through Gellert's notes and then swiftly strode to the desk. Gellert's owl landed right next to him as he penned a letter.

 _Dear Gellert,_

 _My world is on fire. Have you found any like proof for the stone and the cloak as you have for the wand? What do the Peverells have to do with it and have you seen this symbol for the Deathly Hallows elsewhere? I see from your notes that there was a letter penned by one of the owners of the Deathstick that he signed with this symbol instead of his own name, but did he create this symbol himself? Did the Peverell brothers? I must know everything at once. And, of course, what you plan to do when you unite all three._

 _Please write quickly, I will not sleep tonight._

 _Albus_

He attached the letter to the owl and released him out the window.

The next few days were a flurry of owls. Albus spent ever increasing amounts of time at Gellert's house. He was not comfortable with Gellert being in his own house for long, not when Ariana could lose control of herself at any moment. He always found some excuse to take Gellert outside, whether it was to see the nearby lake or the park. As soon as they parted, Albus would have more questions, more ideas, and Gellert would invariably have something to say before Albus had even sent a letter. They spent a good ten minutes laughing when Albus sent a letter asking for more concrete proof than an old wives' tale that the Wand of Destiny was really made of elder when Albus received a note from Gellert saying, "I know you'll want more than an old wives' tale, and I'm on the trail of something promising."

The more time they spent together, the more comfortable they became. Albus could feel himself blushing when Gellert would take off his coat and waistcoat, even going so far as to unlace the undershirt if it were a particularly hot afternoon. He tried not to let Gellert see but could not get over the feeling that Gellert _had_ seen. That Gellert had _wanted_ him to see.

Albus had known for a long time that he was not attracted to women. At least, not the way other boys his age were. It was difficult some nights to return to the dorms at Hogwarts and try to join in on conversations he had no interest in. Everyone assumed him to be without romantic leanings and Albus had supposed they must be correct. Until Gellert, that is.

Something about the way his blonde hair tumbled in such effortless curls to his broad shoulders and the way that his eyes crinkled up at the corners. Albus had never conversed with someone so in tune with his own thoughts and ideas, so compatible in every way. Gellert understood things and even articulated things that Albus had only felt before quickly passing them by as impossible or dangerous. All of these things combined in one person and Albus found himself quite carried away.

Which was why it was so jarring when Aberforth called him out.

Aberforth had been troublesome ever since Gellert's arrival. He only had a few days left in Godric's Hollow, something Albus was infinitely grateful for. He found himself imagining himself and Gellert in his sitting room, not worrying about Aberforth bursting into the room at any moment, he and Gellert quite alone. But he never had much time to ruminate on these very pleasant thoughts before Aberforth came in griping about something and bursting his perfect soap bubble dreams.

Aberforth thought Albus was spending too much time with Gellert. Aberforth thought Albus was not spending enough time with Ariana. Aberforth thought Albus had fallen behind on housework (a bit rich, Albus thought, considering Aberforth sometimes fell asleep in the goat pen – if one does not want goat droppings in the house, one simply does not spend one's time ankle deep in goat droppings). Apparently Albus could do nothing right, and Albus was quite tired of his little brother and ready to move on to bigger and better things.

Some of the things Gellert had to say were quite stirring. He was very passionate about wizarding law reform. He thought wizards should not hide, that wizards and Muggles had much to learn from each other. Muggles, apparently, had made many advances in science recently. Nothing that could rival magic of course, but technology could only be improved upon with the correct spells. Albus found himself thinking of wizards in charge, for the wizards would have to be in charge of the Muggles. No, Albus and Gellert were quite agreed on that point. Muggles had proven themselves to be most violent, ill-disposed creatures, more interested in blowing one another up over perceived slights and land rights than they were with moving civilization forward. And if the Muggles stayed in charge wizards would eventually have to go into hiding again, Albus knew that as well.

Albus was just pondering some of these thoughts late one night as he was reading an interesting account about a witch who could speak with the dead. Gellert had recommended it, saying it was a far reach for the Resurrection Stone, but interesting nonetheless. Albus was quite wrapped up in the little story and nearly jumped out of his skin when Aberforth came bursting into the room, his brow furrowed and his shoulders hunched forward in a most miserable manner.

"What are you doing Albus?" he asked, not in a remotely polite manner, but rather as though he were about to accuse Albus of something.

"I am reading Aberforth, kindly take yourself from the room."

"No." Aberforth had strode forward and now knocked the pamphlet out of Albus's hands. Albus looked up at his brother in shock. Aberforth was practically quivering with rage.

"I've just been down to see Ariana," said Aberforth.

"All right," said Albus, as he bent down to pick up the pamphlet. Aberforth knocked it from his hands again. "Really, Ab."

"No. You listen. I've just been down to see Ariana. When was the last time you saw her today?"

Albus thought. He felt the blood drain from his face and hoped his expression was neutral as he said, "I'm sure I checked in on her this morning." He had not. He had meant to but Gellert had stopped by with an interesting paper on dueling practices in China and he had forgotten.

Aberforth snorted. Something flew out of his nose and landed on the carpet. Albus wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Right. This morning. Well guess what, Albus? Ariana has been covered in sick all day. She must have worked herself up into a right state. Furniture everywhere. Sick everywhere. She was crying and trying to mop it up with her nightdress when I just went to check on her."

"Well why didn't _you_ check on her today, Aberforth? If you haven't noticed, I'm rather busy. I could use some help."

"Help with what?" Aberforth's voice was rising. "Help taking over the world from those helpless Muggles? Help flirting with Gellert Grindelwald?" Now the blood was rushing back into Albus's face with a vengeance. He began to rise from his chair but found that he couldn't. Aberforth was in such a rage he was doing unintentional magic and yet he looked calm as could be. He finally had Albus's full attention.

"What are you going to do, Albus? Go with Grindelwald when he finds out where one of these bleeding Hallows are? Who will look after Ariana then? Are you going to help Gellert subdue the Muggles? And how will you protect Ariana from the very people who made her the way she is?"

Albus could think of nothing to say. He did not have to.

Gellert stepped into the room. How long he had been standing in the shadowy hall Albus had no idea.

"Don't you see, Aberforth?" he asked. Aberforth whipped around. Albus found he could stand from the chair again. "Convincing the Muggles to be subordinate to wizards, combining the power of the Deathly Hallows, this is all so people like Ariana can stop hiding. Imagine if your sister could step out into the sunshine. If she could live a _normal_ life. She could have that. But I need your brother. I can't do this alone. This movement needs a brilliant mind like Albus's."

Aberforth spat at Gellert.

"See here!" Albus yelled, but Gellert held up a hand.

"It doesn't matter Albus. We will meet resistance at first. But then the world will see that we are in the right."

"What movement?" Aberforth asked. "Perhaps you could move yourself downstairs to help our sister." And with that he walked out of the room.

Albus looked down at the floor, horribly embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," he mumbled to the carpet. He could feel tears pricking his eyes.

He felt a hand under his chin and looked up. Gellert was tilting his head to look him in the eye. Albus began to shake, but he didn't know why.

Suddenly Gellert grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce embrace. It felt so good to be held. Albus had not been held like this since he was a small child. He wrapped his own arms around Gellert's waist and pressed his face into his jacket.

Gellert released him and looked him in the eye with that piercing stare of his. "I think it's time I met your sister," he said.

Albus took Gellert's hand. "Yes. I think it is." He led him over to the basement stairs.

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 **More to come soon, I promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So this is a little short and not terribly action-packed but I wanted to concentrate on the Dumbledore dynamics for a minute. I hope you like it!**

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When they reached downstairs the basement still smelled putrid. Gellert moved his arm, looking like he would cover his nose, but seeing that Albus was watching him, he lowered it. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward.

Ariana was crouched in the corner crying quietly.

Albus ran forward. His guilt was extreme. Extreme enough that he didn't even think of Gellert watching as he knelt in the sick still spattered on the floor. He pulled Ariana into his arms.

"Ariana. Oh, Ariana, I am so sorry. How long have you been like this, pet?"

Ariana just cried. He felt her start suddenly and remembered Gellert. He turned round to look at him, to search his face for a reaction to these extraordinary circumstances. Then he looked back at Ariana.

"Ariana. This is a very good friend of mine. His name is Gellert Grindelwald and we've become very close." Ariana stared up at Gellert, her big blue eyes swimming with tears and confusion. She nodded, but did not bring her head back up, so she was staring at the floor as she said, "Pleased to meet you, sir." Albus sighed inwardly, feeling some of the strain leave his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around Ariana and pulled her to a standing position.

"My sister," he said, "Was playing in the garden when she was a small child." Ariana whimpered and put her face in Albus's jacket. "It's all right, darling, you've nothing to be ashamed of." He turned back to Gellert, who had a very odd expression on his face. He looked as though he had just discovered something useful. "She was doing magic and some Muggle boys saw her. They...well they got very carried away. They did horrible things. Horrible. My father, when he found out, ran after them and hexed them into oblivion. They had to be sent to St Mungo's for months to have their memories obliviated properly, and their parents. It was a huge mess. My father has been in Azkaban ever since. And my sister...can no longer control her magic."

Gellert simply stared. One finger was touching his lips.

Then he lowered his hand and a pleasant smile formed on his face. He bowed. "Ariana Dumbledore, it is a real pleasure."

Albus looked at Ariana. She was blushing. His sister was quite charmed! Not that he could blame her.

"I'm sorry," she said, and gestured around the room, indicating all the mess, "About all this."

"Nonsense. I won't hear a word of apology. Why don't you go take a bath while Albus and I sort this out."

Ariana giggled and ran to the washroom which had been installed for her. Albus followed her and worked the usual spells for hot water, then came back out into the basement. He was feeling something. Something strange, something he couldn't place. It wasn't later until he realized it was pride. Pride in Ariana and proud in himself for finally letting go of his father's shame and introducing her to someone. Perhaps times really were changing and she would not have to hide in the basement any longer. He was also incredibly proud of Gellert. To look at his sister, to see her madness and dismay, and to treat her like a fully-functioning human girl...it was more than Albus had been able to do, and it hurt to admit it.

Gellert was waving his wand, a cleaning spell vanishing all the sick. Albus set to work on repairing the furniture that had gone flying around the room again. He would need to do a spell to fix them to the floor now that she had discovered that particular gift. They worked in silence until everything was spotless.

Ariana emerged from the bathroom, clean and sparkling. She had even brushed her hair until it hung long down her back. Albus had not seen her with untangled hair since before their father was sent to Azkaban.

"Albus," said Gellert. "I'm sure Ariana could do with something to eat. Why don't we get her some tea and bread?"

Albus felt something warm and heavy spooling around his heart. "Yes. Would you like that Ariana?"

Ariana nodded. Speech seemed to be beyond her at the moment, but she appeared happy to sit and wait.

Gellert and Albus walked up the stairs.

"Gellert," said Albus when they had closed the basement door. He put his hand on Gellert's arm. It was warm and muscular and Albus wished he could close his fingers around it and pull Gellert into him and -

"Yes?" said Gellert, smiling bemusedly at the now blushing Albus, whose fingers had curled quite possessively around his arm.

"I – I" Albus cleared his throat and smiled, clearly uncomfortable. "I need to apologize to my brother. I don't suppose you could wait in the kitchen?"

"Of course. But listen." Gellert was looking serious. He held Albus's gaze and took Albus's hands into his own, holding them close to his chest. "Your brother is not supportive of us, but our work is important. It's to help Ariana and others like her. Even if we never unite the Deathly Hallows, although I believe if anyone can, it's us, we must bring wizards to their rightful place of rulers of earth."

Albus nodded. "I agree, Gellert. I ought to be more careful what Aberforth might overhear. He leaves for Hogwarts soon anyway, and we'll have the house to ourselves." He blushed bright red. What must Gellert think of that? The words had just come spilling out of his mouth as though he had no control over himself.

Gellert laughed. He let go of Albus's hands and reached up to stroke the back of his hand againt Albus's cheek. Gellert's hand was cool against his heated skin.

"I'd like that," said Gellert. "I'll wait in the kitchen."

Albus had to lean against the door once Gellert was out of the room until he felt his heart was under control. Then he turned toward the hall to trudge up the stairs to Aberforth's room.

He knocked on his brother's bedroom door. No answer. Oh, how Albus hoped he was not in the goat pen.

He opened the door anyway.

"I didn't answer because I don't want to see your face," said Aberforth, lying on his bed and refusing to look away from the ceiling.

"I understand that, Aberforth. I'm so sorry. You've been absolutely right."

That got his attention. Aberforth finally looked at him and sat up.

"I haven't been paying the correct amount of attention to Ariana. I have been depending too much on you. Once you're gone I'll be taking care of her all on my own, something I've never done before."

"Yeah, me neither." He huffed, and lay back down on the bed, staring again at the ceiling.

"Well. I apologize. Ariana is much better now. Bathed and even brushed her hair." Aberforth looked at him again. "I know. I was shocked myself. I'm making her tea and bringing her some bread. I thought perhaps you'd like to come down with us."

"Who's us?"

"Gellert." Aberforth spat again – in his own room, quite uncouth. "Now, Aberforth, please don't be this way. I know you don't like him, but I like him quite a bit. I think he'd really like to spend some time with you. He knows how important you and Ariana are to me."

"Which is to say, not at all."

That hurt. What hurt more was that Albus could think of nothing to say.

"The truth is, I would like you to spend some time with him. I think if you got to know him you'd like him as much as I do."

Aberforth smirked. "I don't think I'd like to like him as much as you do."

Albus blushed again and looked at his toes, but could not suppress a grin. "Please come have tea with us, Aberforth."

"All right. Fine. I'll be waiting in the basement for you."

And with that he swiftly left the room, running down the stairs so quickly he was gone before Albus left the room.

When he reached the kitchen, Gellert was sitting at the table as promised. Albus smiled.

"Now, I must confess. I've never made bread before," said Albus.

"Don't you have any in?"

"No I'm afraid I haven't done any shopping. But I think I have the gist of it."

He magicked together some ingredients and set the kettle to boiling. He also cast a spell on the bread so it would rise quicker, he didn't want Gellert waiting too long, he might become bored and leave. He poured the tea and they went downstairs, Gellert carrying the bread and butter and Albus carrying the tea tray.

Ariana was still sitting on the sofa, smiling vacantly. Aberforth was sitting in a chair, scowling.

Albus and Gellert served and sat down themselves, Gellert sitting very close to Albus. Close enough their legs were touching. Aberforth noticed and his scowl deepened.

Albus drank his tea and took a bite of the bread. It was horrific. How could something be rubbery and mealy at the same time? The taste was simply indescribable. He tried to spread some butter on it, hoping that would help, but the butter seemed to be reacting with something in the bread and tasted rancid. Albus found he could not look at anyone in the room.

"This is quite horrible, isn't it?" asked Ariana conversationally, taking another bite. "Albus, please don't ever cook again."

Aberforth and Gellert began to laugh at the same time. Albus joined in and Ariana giggled while she ate until Albus took the bread away from her. He didn't want her getting sick again.

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 **Thank you for the lovely comments! Please keep them coming!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks for waiting! Please review! Thank you to phonebox for reviewing so faithfully! It really makes a difference in how I feel about posting more chapters!  
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Gellert left soon after the disastrous tea and Ariana fell straight to sleep. Albus and Aberforth exchanged an awkward goodnight in the hallway and made their way to their bedrooms on opposite sides of the house. Albus immediately went to his writing desk.

 _Gellert -_

 _Your point about Wizard_ _dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD - this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang!_ _But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)_

 _Albus_

Albus found an owl and attached the letter and sent it off.

The next day, feeling boundlessly guilty, Albus went for a walk with Gellert. He promised Ariana and Aberforth he would only be gone twenty minutes. It could not have been more clear that Aberforth was only humoring him for Ariana's sake.

Albus tried to push this thought aside as he and Gellert walked down the path.

"I can't believe you think I don't know how to duel," said Albus, smiling. He looked at Gellert. His hair was glinting in the soft light that filtered down through the tree leaves. His gait was smooth, confident. Albus felt like a gangling ginger fool walking beside him.

"Oh, Albus -" how he thrilled to hear him speak that name! - "They don't teach you how to duel at nice schools like yours! At Durmstrang -" only when he said his name and the name of his school did the soft Slavic accents pronounce themselves - "We dueled at least three times between supper and bed time. You were lucky if you got to breakfast without a scratch or a bruise."

Albus scoffed, loudly, to show what he thought of that fanciful fiction. "Yes, and at Hogwarts each boy was given a rose if he was particularly well-behaved that day."

The two young men laughed.

"Well, I suppose we both know how this must end?" asked Gellert, stopping in his path.

They were surrounded by trees. They were quite deep in the woods on the south side of Godric's Hollow. Albus looked around for any sign of Muggles.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ he roared, but Gellert was faster and had thrown up a Shield Charm. The two laughed again and then set to dueling.

Spells flew through the air until the wood around them grew hot. The ground cracked beneath them. Albus laughed again and stumbled, almost exposing himself to Gellert who had a look of fierce triumph on his face, but he twisted at the last moment and a red-hot spell hit the ground beside him. So, he was Stunning was he? Albus threw a silent, made-up charm at his newfound friend. See what he made of that! It hit him in the torso, right where he had aimed it and Gellert fell over laughing hysterically. It was a tickling charm that tickled the whole body, all the way to the inside. It was quite maddening and debilitating. Perhaps a bit embarrassing, Albus decided, and lifted the charm.

Gellert stood quickly. His face was red from laughter but it was the fury in his eyes that made Albus step back.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I thought we were having a bit of fun."

Gellert took a deep breath and expelled it, still staring Albus down. Then the anger drained from his eyes and a look of embarrassment crept in, as Gellert realized what he'd done.

"No, Albus, I'm sorry. We were having a bit of fun and I ruined it. I'm too competitive. I always have been. You're amazing."

Albus blushed. "I've never fought anyone who made the ground around me crack. _You're_ amazing."

"Was that a made up spell? Quite effective. I was more likely to wet myself than I was to curse anything."

Albus spent a few minutes showing Gellert how to cast the spell. It was useless against even a simple shield charm but Albus explained that Gellert had let his guard down when he thought he had been successful in Stunning him, so he had taken a chance with it.

"I should never have done it, we were having fun, I am sorry. I suppose I-"

And then Gellert was kissing him. It was extraordinary. His breath left his body as Gellert's warm lips pressed against his own and the soft warm sunshine floated around them, bouncing off the leftover magic hovering in the air. Albus lifted his arms so they encircled Gellert's neck. Gellert leaned in and opened his mouth. Their lips were centimeters apart. He could feel Gellert's warm breath on his face. And then they stepped away from each other, both quite red in the face, and neither from anger or recent tickling charms.

"We should get back to your sister," said Gellert.

Albus was too stunned to say anything. He nodded. The walked off again, this time, Albus's arm tucked into Grindelwald's.

When they reached Albus's house, Albus broke away and walked swiftly to the door. There was a letter tacked to it. He pulled it off. Who would write to him in this fashion?

 _Dear Neighbors,_

 _I know you are not harmful but I know you are magic. I will not hurt you. I desperately need your help. I am at 4 Crescent. Please._

 _Ever yours,_

 _B_

Albus handed the note to Grindelwald. "I must do what I can," he said. Gellert looked him in the eye.

"This is a trap of some kind. Allow me to assist you."

"No," said Albus, already backing away. "I don't want to frighten this person. Come for me in an hour if I haven't returned."

Gellert nodded and Albus ran. When Albus was out of sight, Gellert stepped inside the house.

Aberforth was downstairs with Ariana.

"Please, Ari. Just a bite! Just a little bite. It tastes good, I promise!"

Ariana closed her lips and turned her head away, just as she had when she had been a baby.

Aberforth sighed and set aside the gruel. It was horrible tasting, the both knew it. But he couldn't do any better and after last night, it was clear that Albus, their genius brother, couldn't do any better either. Aberforth grinned at the memory.

"What are you laughing at?" Ariana asked, sounding petulant.

Aberforth laughed out loud. "Albus's idea of bread," he said between breaths.

Ariana joined in, but was swiftly cut off.

"Well, isn't this a cozy picture," said a cold voice from behind them.

Aberforth turned around. Gellert was coming down the stairs. He looked to the top of the stairwell, but Albus didn't appear.

"Where's my brother?" he asked, standing up to face him.

"He's gone. I don't know when he'll be back."

Aberforth didn't like the look in Gellert's eyes. He was clearly calculating some unknowable sum. It was the same look Albus had when he was trying to decide how much to tell him.

"What's going on?" Aberforth asked, trying to sound threatening, trying to sound more like an adult and less like a scrawny teenager.

"What's going on is, your brother is brilliant. I need him. He does not need you." Gellert was standing with his arms folded, his wand in his right hand and sticking over his shoulder. "How is he supposed to help me when he's got an idiot brother and a crippled sister in tow? He thinks once we find the Resurrection Stone your mother will take care of the two of you, but how ARE WE TO FIND THE STONE IF YOU TWO COME ALONG?" Gellert was bellowing. Spit was flying from his mouth. Aberforth felt the charge of the air around them as Ariana became upset. He was terrified. He wanted to reach for his wand, needed to reach for his wand, but he was frozen.

"HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SEARCHING FOR SOME BLOODY STONE!" yelled Aberforth. So, he realized, he was frozen, but he could yell. "HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE LOOKING AFTER ARIANA AND ME!" And then he could move and he reached for his wand and all of a sudden everything was pain.

His head was pain, his eyes were agony, his arms were on fire, knives were piercing his chest, red hot pokers applied to his legs, he could not go on, would not go on, there was no reason to rise from such pain and then rise he did. He lay shaking on the ground as the pain slowly receded. He became aware of distant shouting, coming closer and closer. He wanted to remain on the floor, wanted to remain unconscious to the fighting. He wanted to sleep.

"Answer me Gellert! What are you doing?"

"ARE YOU BLIND? HE ATTACKED ME!" Gellert yelled. "HE HAD SOME MAD IDEA I WAS TAKING YOU AWAY AND HE TRIED TO KILL ME!"

Aberforth opened bleary eyes to see Albus looking at him, confused. Ariana was humming, her hands clamped over her ears, tears streaming down her face. Aberforth shook his head. He could not speak. The pain was leaving quickly now, he would be able to stand soon. His wand had rolled away when he had dropped it. He tried to reach out a hand to grab it as Albus and Gellert began to yell again.

"He's my brother! He's my brother Gellert! Why would you not Stun him? Why would you not incapacitate him in any other way?" Albus's voice broke. "The Cruciatus?"

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME! YOU DONT BELIEVE ME!" Gellert turned to him again, but this time Aberforth was ready and he raised his wand and did a Shield Charm around himself and Ariana.

"Don't hurt them!" Albus was yelling. "Don't hurt them, please don't hurt them! Oh my God, Gellert!" Albus was grabbing Gellert's shoulders but Gellert was running forward. Albus reached for his wand, and threw a curse. Aberforth came around the Shield Charm, casting spells, heedless of where they landed. Albus was still yelling uselessly. Gellert was aiming to maim, aiming to kill. Aberforth was ducking and dodging, trying to fire spells of his own, but he couldn't concentrate on the Shield Charm, couldn't fight and protect his sister at the same time.

He looked behind him for one second, saw his sister glowing an eery blue glow, saw her raise her hands, now in the middle of the fight, where the three of them were throwing spells around like mad men, saw the green jet of light bounce off a metal plate on the wall, saw it hit his sister.

The blue glow died immediately and so did Ariana.

She crumpled to the floor. Albus sank down to his knees beside her and let out a low wail. Aberforth was watching Gellert, watching him look disgustedly at his brother before running up the stairs and out of the basement. Aberforth wasn't aware that he had sank to the ground himself. Wasn't aware that hot tears streaked down his cheeks.

Ariana lay so still on the ground. She would never move again. If they didn't move her from the room she would stay here on the floor, lying so still, not breathing, not moving. Not living. She was dead. She was dead. Ariana was dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is really more of an epilogue than a proper chapter. Thank you so much for reading! Keep an eye out, I have another story from the world of Harry Potter coming soon!**

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Albus had had plenty of time to think of that terrible day.

There had been no neighbor, of course. When he had reached Crescent he had seen there were no inhabited houses. He had rushed back to his home to hear shouting and when he had raced down the stairs he had seen...At this point in his recollections Albus almost always turned away, physically, as well as mentally. It looked as though he had a tick.

The funeral had been horrible. His sister, lying dead in a coffin and all because of him. His brother sat beside him having recently been tortured, again because of him. Everyone left on this earth that he loved had been hurt because he had brought a monster into their lives. Because he had found someone he thought understood him and had never felt that way before and he had allowed that to blind him to what Gellert Grindelwald really was.

Albus had barely noticed when Aberforth started to shout at him, didn't clearly hear the words. He looked up to see Aberforth pulling back a closed fist and had felt a brilliant flash of pain and heat as his nose broke and blood spurted everywhere. Aberforth had sobbed but the only wetness on Albus's face had been his own blood.

What had he done?

Bathilda Bagshot had, again, lent her support to the Dumbledore family, such as it was. This time, however, Albus kept the distance between them as large as possible without appearing rude. Bathilda attributed this new cold shoulder to grief, and as she and Albus did eventually rekindle their friendship, that's all it ever was. To her.

Lately, Albus had been hearing reports of his old friend. He had been hearing things for a long time, really. People had been sending him letters from all over the world, as ever, filling him in on Gellert Grindelwald's doings. He heard that Gellert's justification for all the torture and all the slaughter was that it would result in the greater good for wizardkind.

Whenever Albus thought of this, he had to get up and pace his tiny office.

He had taken a job at Hogwarts as Transfiguration teacher. After Aberforth's last term at school it had come open and he had applied and been accepted with startling alacrity for one so young. Everyone had been dismayed with Albus for not reaching his full potential. Well, not everyone. Aberforth had remained resolutely uninterested in whatever Albus did.

It had been ten years now, since Ariana's death. Gellert Grindelwald had erected a terrible fastness for his enemies. Albus could hear their screams at night, could see their faces. They all seemed to have his sister's large and troubled blue eyes. It was rumored that Gellert had a wand that was more powerful than anyone else's.

Albus knew he must face him. This latest report was sickening. Hundreds dead who had opposed him and hundreds more tortured for more enemies' whereabouts. He was not afraid of fighting Gellert. In the end, he was not afraid to die, but really he knew it would not happen, not in this duel. He had fought Gellert before and Elder Wand or no, Albus knew he could defeat him.

But when he thought of Gellert's face something in him crumbled. He was no longer in love with him. That had died and been replaced by a feeling of deep betrayal and hurt which he directed at himself as soon as he had seen Gellert torturing his brother. But he was scared of what Gellert might tell him.

He pictured it a thousand different ways. Sneaking up on him. Challenging him to a duel. And it all ended the same. Gellert's wand at his throat and his voice saying, "It was you."

Albus knew he had not cast the Avada Kedavra. But perhaps if he had not deflected Gellert's wand, perhaps if he had taken Aberforth out of the fight. And it didn't matter anyway because it _was_ his fault. He would have to live with that for the rest of his life, however long it was. He had brought Gellert into his home where his brother and sister, his only remaining family, had lived. He had trusted a wolf and the wolf had devoured his family. It was always going to be his fault. Always.

Albus swung on a traveling cloak. Term was over. The time was as good as any to defeat a Dark Wizard.


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